This has got to be one of the dullest films MARILYN MONROE ever did--and equally dull is her leading man, the French accented YVES MONTAND who must have left his heart and his talents in France for the duration of filming.
He's simply bland with a capital B and very unfunny. And when MILTON BERLE, GENE KELLY and BING CROSBY attempt to give him pointers on how to be an entertainer, they're impatience with him is understandable. Whatever magic Montand had in his homeland is obscured here by a witless script and poor direction from George Cukor, who even manages to make Marilyn look less than believable as a wistful showgirl.
The faults extend to the songs to. The only reasonably good one is "My Heart Belongs to Daddy" done in a rather coy and simpering style by Monroe but nevertheless, it's the only high point in the whole show. Everything else is better left unmentioned.
Summing up: A waste of two stars who, incidentally, have no chemistry together, at least on screen. Off is another matter.
He's simply bland with a capital B and very unfunny. And when MILTON BERLE, GENE KELLY and BING CROSBY attempt to give him pointers on how to be an entertainer, they're impatience with him is understandable. Whatever magic Montand had in his homeland is obscured here by a witless script and poor direction from George Cukor, who even manages to make Marilyn look less than believable as a wistful showgirl.
The faults extend to the songs to. The only reasonably good one is "My Heart Belongs to Daddy" done in a rather coy and simpering style by Monroe but nevertheless, it's the only high point in the whole show. Everything else is better left unmentioned.
Summing up: A waste of two stars who, incidentally, have no chemistry together, at least on screen. Off is another matter.